


An Off-Script Introduction

by EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604



Category: South Park
Genre: Acting, Aged-Up Character(s), Comfort, Fanfiction, Friendship/Love, Humor, M/M, References to Shakespeare, Romantic Friendship, Shipping, Smoking, The Lord of the Rings References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 21:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604/pseuds/EveryOtherUsernameWasTaken6604
Summary: Tweek and Craig are in the same drama class, though they've never interacted much and don't have the highest opinion of one another. However, when Tweek's skillful performance catches Craig's eye and the two are assigned together on a group project, they discover things about each other that they never expected, and show a little kindness to each other along the way.





	An Off-Script Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as my contribution to the South Park Ship Collabo project, which celebrates both popular and less popular ships in the South Park fandom. I was slightly limited due to time constraints, but if there's enough demand for it, I will continue the story. I hope you all enjoy it!

“S-s-so then the d-d-dog says…”

“And her makeup was _abysmal_!”

“Give it back, asshole!”

Tweek groaned and hugged his knees to his chest. He pressed himself closer to the back wall and pushed his hands into the carpeted floor of the drama classroom, which left red stinging imprints when he lifted his hands up to glance at them. Finding the sensation did not distract him from the chatter that surrounded him and invaded his hearing, he slammed his hands over his ears in an attempt to block it out.

“Gahhh…”

He twitched a few times and thought, “ _D-damn it, why won't they stop? Hopefully the teacher gets here soon and shuts them up._ ”

His wish was soon fulfilled, as the door suddenly swung open and a rotund middle-aged man entered, a rush of strong perfume assaulting the twitchy teen's nostrils. The conversations soon died down.

“Morning, darlings!” lisped the spray-tanned teacher, holding his hands near his waist.

“Hey, Big Gay Al!” cried a few students.

The man sighed and shook his head, then said “Darlings...as I have to keep reminding you...” He glared at a black-haired boy with his head down, who Tweek recognized as Craig Tucker. “Just call me Al.”

Craig glanced up at him and responded by lifting his right hand and extending his middle finger.

“Did you just flip me off?!”

“No,” Craig answered in his nasally monotone voice.

Tweek stared at the boy sitting near him. He didn’t know Craig very well, though his rebellious nature could be irritating; since they usually ended up sitting near each other by chance, Tweek worried the teachers that Craig pissed off would punish him as well.

“Well, anyway…” Al waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Today we're performing our monologues! I hope you've all prepared!”

A few groans came from the sitting students, along with some verbal reactions such as, “Shit, that was today?!” and “Fuckin’ gay shit…”

“Yes, yes, I know performing alone isn’t your favorite thing, but you've got to practice if you want to get better!” Al reminded them, waving his finger pointedly. “Now, who wants to volunteer to go first?” he smiled.

Several seconds passed in silence. Tweek began twitching and glanced around wildly.

“ _Wh-why isn’t anyone raising their hand…?_ ” he thought to himself, involuntarily clenching his teeth.

“No one…? All right then, I'll pick. Umm...Tweek, why don't you go?” the teacher said, a friendly smile on his face.

“GAH!” Tweek jumped as he heard his name called. “M-me?!”

“Yes, sweetie. Don't worry, you'll do fine! Come on up.”

Al made a sweeping gesture towards the front of the classroom. Tweek slowly stood up from the floor, clenched his fists at his sides, took a deep breath, and walked toward to the small raised platform at the front of the room. He turned to the other students, his eyes flickering over their faces and scanning them closely. Some of his classmates looked disinterested, while others looked like they were paying attention, or at least trying to.

Wendy, who was sitting near the front, smiled at him, gave a thumbs up, and mouthed “You’ve got this!”

Tweek felt his frazzled nerves relax a little from that reassurance. He smiled back at her and returned his gaze to the center of the classroom.

“H-hello! My name's Tweek Tweak- though I guess you knew that already- and I'm performing the dagger monologue from Shakespeare’s _Macbeth."_

“Ooh, exciting. For those of you who don't know, Macbeth and his wife are planning to kill King Duncan, but Macbeth is having doubts about it,” explained the flamboyant man.

Craig glanced up.

“ _Murder, huh? Maybe this'll be interesting for once,"_  he thought.

Tweek stood to the left of the stage and held his hand out in front of him, assuming a shocked expression.

“Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle pointed toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee…”

He reached forward and grabbed at the air.

“I have thee not, and yet I see thee still,” he continued. “Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to touch as to sight?”

Tweek gasped softly, as if he were realizing something. Craig leaned a little closer.

“Or art thou but a dagger of the mind, a false creation, proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?”

“I get it...so this Macbeth guy's hallucinating. Kid's not half bad…” Craig muttered under his breath.

The blond continued to recite his speech, saying, “I see thee yet, in form as palpable as this which I now draw.”

He picked up a prop dagger from the floor where he had left it, out of sight of the other students.

“Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going, and such an instrument I was to use…” He walked forward a little and lifted the dagger slightly, then groaned and hit his forehead.

“Mine eyes are made the fools of the other senses…” he said in an irritated tone, but soon began to sound more inquisitive as he spoke the next line: “Or else worth all the rest.”

“I see thee still, and on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before.”

The actor's voice wavered in fear, but he soon sighed and shook his head.

“There's no such thing. It is the bloody business-” he examined the prop dagger- “which informs thus to mine eyes.”

Craig pulled his knees close to his chest and kept intently watching Tweek's performance. The latter glanced upward and looked around noticeably.

“Now o'er the one half-world, nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse the curtained sleep. Witchcraft celebrates pale Hecate’s offerings, and withered Murder, alarmed by his sentinel, the wolf, whose howl’s his watch…”

Tweek began to slowly walk forward again.

“Thus with his stealthy pace, with Tarquin’s ravishing strides, towards his design  
moves, like a ghost.”

He looked toward the ground and lowered his voice slightly, imploring, “Thou sure and firm-set earth, hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear thy very stones prate of my whereabout, and take the present horror from the time which now suits with it.” Tweek looked back up and said, with a strong and determined voice, “While I threat, he lives. Words, to the heat of deeds, too-cold breath gives.”

The blond walked all the way to the right side of the stage before turning to his fellow students and saying, “And...scene.”

He set the prop down and bowed, hurrying back to his place near the wall amid the polite applause. Craig found himself clapping a little harder than he might normally. Upon realizing this, he considered stopping; however, he then thought that it was too late to stop now, and continued.

“ _Damn, Tweek. You managed to get me interested in something. I'll need to keep my eye on you,_ ” he mused.

“Wonderful! Excellent job as always, Tweek. Umm…Craig, why don't you go next?”

“Oh, I don't have anything prepared,” the blue-clad teenager responded.

Al clicked his tongue a few times.

“All right then, someone else can go. See me after class.”

A few people around Craig laughed, but he glared and raised his middle finger at them.

The rest of the class continued without incident; the other students performed their monologues, some (like Kyle and Wendy) good and some bad (such as Cartman and Kenny). Al made a few small notes on his clipboard for every performance, and sat down as the bell rang and the students packed up to leave.

“See you on Monday, class! Remember, group performances are next week! Oh, Tweek, could you stay behind for just a second?” he turned to address Tweek as the boy started to walk out of the doorway.

Tweek cried out, “Gah! Y-yes, sir?” and stopped walking.

The teacher smiled warmly at Tweek, then at Craig, who had stayed in the room as requested.

“I _adored_ your performance today. You're always so passionate!” he praised.

“Oh, well, thank you…” mumbled Tweek, a soft blush on his face.

“ _You_ , however, Craig...oh, how do I put this?” Al spoke, sounding a bit worried. “Your effort leaves a little to be desired, darling.”

Craig was silent.

“I know you have the potential to be a great actor- a great _person_ \- if you try hard enough! We just have to get you to try. That's why, for your group project, I'm pairing you two together.”

Craig looked up, shocked, while Tweek gasped.

Tweek stepped forward and raised his hand a little to object, “W-with all due respect, sir-”

“No! You can't change my mind on this, Tweek,” Al dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I am _certain_ you can get Craig to be passionate about acting. And who knows? Maybe you'll learn a little something from him in return.”

Turning toward the door, Al ordered, “Now go! Go, and put your hearts into it!” and lightly pushed the two out, shutting the door behind them.

Tweek groaned and grabbed the sides of his head, and Craig sighed a little.

“Aaagh...why'd he have to make us do group projects anyway? I hate them…” Tweek lamented.  

“They're not exactly my favorite thing in the world either.”

“Ngh! W-well, as long as we're working together, we may as well practice,” the blond snapped.

Craig groaned and looked up towards the ceiling. He kept his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he did so, and clenched them slightly.

“Do we have to?” he complained.

Tweek turned up his nose and responded, “N-not like you have anything better to do.”

Craig nodded in response, then said, “Fine, but can we do it outside of school or some shit, so I don't have to walk far?”

Tweek responded with an “Ngh,” and a nod.

“End of school today, then,” Craig agreed before their paths split and they both went to their next class.

Later that day, the two exited their respective classrooms and pushed their way through the crowd of students to find each other. Once they managed this, they nodded to each other and silently began walking out of the school, stopping in a nearby grassy patch.

That day, they attempted to get started by thinking of a scene to perform. They almost immediately ruled out musicals, since Craig couldn't sing, and Shakespeare, since Craig couldn't understand it; as Tweek suggested these things and had his ideas swiftly shot down, he groaned softly to himself and resignedly admitted those were the only kinds of plays he knew anything about.

Oddly, Craig didn't laugh at that like he normally would. Maybe it was the quiet, slightly defeated way the blond spoke, or the look in his gentle blue eyes; regardless of the reason, however, Craig felt bad for him.

Within an hour, the two decided they were only wasting time, and Tweek mumbled that he needed to start walking home now so as not to be late before hastily walking away. Craig stayed behind to dig a cigarette out of his pocket and light it, the softly burning red tip standing out against the gray dusk: as Tweek glanced back and saw it, he scoffed in disgust. Craig soon began his own short walk home with the intention of trying again tomorrow.

The next day's attempt was equally unsuccessful; Tweek found himself growing frustrated with Craig's lack of contribution, and told him as much with, “You know, you could put in _some_ effort.”

“It’s not my fault,” the noirette groaned. “I can’t think straight here. Look, can we go to my house? I think it's closer than yours, and there won't be as many people.”

“Fine. But if you try to lure me in and kill me, I _will_ haunt you,” warned Tweek, pointing a finger at Craig to emphasize his point.

“Not if I die first.”

The blond grunted and made other growl-like sounds of irritation as they started to travel, the air pleasantly cool and a stark contrast to his fevered brain. He tugged at the strands of blond hair that stuck up and out of his head.

“ _Gah, why did it have to be him?! Some rebellious idiot who thinks he's hot shit for being reckless all the time…_ ”

He let out a loud “Gaaah!”, but blushed slightly and covered his mouth as Craig glanced at him with narrowed eyes.

“You good?”

“Y-yes, I'm fine,”  Tweek snapped.

Craig shrugged, but inwardly thought, " _Jeez, what's his problem?_ "

Within a few minutes, they had reached Craig's suburban home. Tweek stepped forward to knock on the door, but Craig held up a hand, and Tweek slinked backwards, wringing his own hands. Craig then opened the door himself and walked inside, stopping to briefly hold it open for Tweek.

As they walked in, a bright smiling face popped in from another room.

Tweek flinched and cried out "Gah, it's a murderer!" in surprise, but sighed with relief and placed his hand on his heaving chest as he saw that it was only a cheerful-looking girl- who seemed to be around their age.

  
"No, silly, I'm too sweet to be a murderer...Ooh! Is this your new boyfriend, Craig?" she cooed in a high-pitched voice.

"C'mon, just 'cause I told you I'm gay? Fuck off, Ruby," groaned Craig, raising his middle finger to the girl.

She responded, "Why do you keep calling me that, dumbass?”, giggled, and flipped him off in return.

Tricia then approached Tweek and walked around him, tilting her head and asking, "So who is this guy, anyway?"

"I-I-I'm Tweek...C-Craig and I are working on a project together," stammered the nervous blond.

"Well, Tweek, my name is _not_ Ruby, as my stupid baby brother would have you believe,” she teased, standing on tiptoe to pat Craig on the head. “It’s Tricia. Nice to meetcha!" she said warmly, extending her other hand as she continued patting Craig’s head.

Tweek hesitantly grasped her hand, and she took the opportunity to eagerly, almost violently, shake hands with him.

"Cut it out," Craig groaned, batting her patting hand away. "I'm older than you, _Ruby_.” 

The two flipped one another off one more time as Craig began walking up the wood stairs and beckoned Tweek to follow. 

"So that's your sister?" asked Tweek, still faintly twitching as he climbed the stairway.

_“And you're gay?_ ” he thought. 

Nonchalantly, Craig answered, "Yeah. She's pretty cool, I guess." 

He kicked a small rock on the floor, and it skidded against the surface and bounced off the wall. However, rather than bouncing back horizontally, it somehow shot upwards and hit Tweek square between the eyes, on the bridge of his nose.

Tweek cried out in pain, the impact causing his eyes to water. He winced and stumbled backwards against the opposite wall. 

"Oh, shit, dude! You okay?" 

Craig turned toward the other boy and stepped a little closer. 

"My bad,” he apologized, gently brushing a lock of Tweek's blond hair to the side to get a better look at the injury.

As his surprisingly soft hand touched Tweek's forehead and he leaned closer to examine the mark, his green eyes looking downwards, Tweek began to blush. He recoiled backwards and pushed Craig's hand away.

He glanced down as well and, irritated, answered, “I-I'm fine!” then mumbled a reluctant, “Thank you.”

Craig stepped back.

“Guess you wanna get right to work, huh?” he asked. “Fine, then let's, well, get to work.”

“ _Weird…_ ” thought Craig. “ _Normally people with a work ethic like that annoy me, but…no, it's nothing._ ”

He opened a door to the right and stepped in, and Tweek followed. It was his bedroom, which, much to Tweek's shock, was considerably messy and unorganized. Dirty clothes littered the ground in piles, empty cans of energy drinks and candy bar wrappers were scattered about, and Tweek could swear he saw something moving somewhere in the mess.

“Gah! H-how the hell did you let your room get this dirty and...ugh!” Tweek cried, picking up an empty spray can of deodorant. “This stuff is not a substitute for washing your clothes!”

“I dunno. Doesn't look that bad to me.”

“Not that bad?! Are you kidding?! I can't work in a room like this! I mean, how long has this been here?” the blond said as he pinched a black sock between his fingertips and picked it up.

“Oh, _that's_ where my other white sock went!”

Tweek screamed, threw the sock to the ground, and began to tug at his hair again.

“I refuse to work in these conditions! Until this room is cleaned, I will not do a single thing to help with this project!” he defiantly declared.

“Okay, fine, Mr. Clean,” sighed the noirette. “I'll clean it up, _if_ you help.”

“Of course. You'd be lost without me,” retorted the coffee-loving teen.

With that, Tweek marched downstairs and into the living room, where Tricia sat, eating popcorn that seemed to have something red in it and watching a nature show on TV.

Confused and unsure of where to begin, Tweek asked her in rapid succession, “Is that show just close-up shots of animals with a wide-angle lens? Oh, and do you have any cleaning supplies? And what's that on your popcorn?”

“Yes. In the kitchen. And hot sauce,” she answered, equally as fast. “You cleanin’ my baby brother's room?”

“Y-yeah…”

“I'll leave a flower on your grave,” she said teasingly, before giggling once again.

“I'll need it- the smell in there's so bad, my ghost'd still be coughing.”

Tricia's giggling became a little faster, and she snorted softly.

“I like ya, Tweek. In fact, as of now, you hereby have my permission to date my baby brother.”

Yet another time, Tweek's face turned bright red.

“Wh-why do you think I'd do that?! We're total polar opposites, anyway; it'd never work.”

“Well, _someone_ needs to get him to straighten up and fly right. And you know what they say: opposites attract. Or maybe you'd prefer the word ‘antipodes’.”

She tossed him a popcorn kernel over her shoulder. Reacting quickly, he tried to clap his hands around it, but nearly dropped it a few times before catching it and popping it into his mouth. His eyes immediately widened and started watering, as the hot sauce burned his taste buds.

Sitting on his disheveled bed, Craig heard what sounded like a loud “GAH” from downstairs. He glanced down and started to stand up, but then murmured “Eh,” and ignored it.

Several minutes later, Craig heard footsteps up the stairs, and Tweek re-entered the room, panting softly. He was holding cleaning supplies: a spray bottle, a feather duster, garbage bags, a small plastic basket, and the like. There were noticeable drops of water in his hair and around his-

“ _His lips. They look...soft…like I could…_ ”

“Well, come on! Let's get cleaning,” said Tweek authoritatively, setting the supplies down.

Craig, his thoughts cut off by the command, groaned again, stood up, arched his back, and raised his arms above his head, enjoying the satisfying popping sound as his stretches revitalized him.

“Okay, but where do we even start?”

“I-it's easy if you just stay organized. You pick up your clothes and put them in this basket- because I'm sure as h-hell not gonna touch them- and I'll pick up garbage and put it in these bags.”

“You got it, bossman,” Craig acquiesced, giving a lazy salute.

The two began their work. Craig picked up his old clothes that were covered in grime and dust without a care for how disgusting they were, hit them against the side of the basket to shake the dust off, and tossed them into the receptacle, while Tweek grimaced and muttered “Ugh,” every time he had to touch an old piece of paper, wrapping, or plastic.

Within a rather short time, they were done with the first task. Tweek then said he would wash the clothes Craig had gathered and throw away the garbage, while Craig should start dusting and vacuuming the carpet. Craig saluted once again, and Tweek took the containers in hand as he walked back downstairs.

Tricia tossed him another popcorn kernel as she heard him walk by, and he managed to catch it in his mouth. Thankfully, this time, there was no hot sauce on this particular kernel.

“I don't envy ya, Tweekers,” she called to him in a friendly, supportive tone.

“ _‘Tweekers’? Why is she being so friendly with me?”_ the blond wondered as he entered the laundry room and dumped the basket of clothes into the plain white washing machine. “ _It_ _'s a little weird, but I guess she is pretty nice. And kinda cute._ ”

He soon completed his duties and returned to the bedroom carrying the light gray vacuum cleaner he had picked up, where he saw that Craig was just finishing up his dusting. With clean, efficient strokes, the noirette cleared away the dust that hid in every nook and cranny.

A surprised, “ _I_ _'ll be damned, he_ can _work on his own,_ " flashed through Tweek's thoughts.

“H-hey, that's not bad! N-now can you get the carpet? It's filthy, and I'm not sure what that green stuff is,” he spoke aloud, pointing to a dark green stain on the floor.

A sardonic response of, “Your wish is my command,” was all Craig said before he switched the vacuum on and began running it over the carpet in straight lines, stepping further to the left after each line.

Tweek sat on Craig's bed to get out of his way. The loud whirring noise of the cleaner overwhelmed Tweek's hearing, and though he clapped his hands over his ears to block it out, tightly gripped Craig's sheets to distract himself, and even tried burying his face into a (surprisingly clean) pillow, he found that nothing worked, and began to frantically twitch and make high-pitched grunts.

Craig stopped vacuuming and turned the machine off, then looked towards Tweek.

“You good?”

“Oh...oh, I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “I get anxious sometimes...I just don't understand why.”

“Don't understand why?”

Craig's mouth was agape, and his tone and expression were incredulous.

“It's the coffee! All that crap your parents put in it!”

Now it was Tweek’s turn to look shocked, as he raised his head.

“Wh...what?” he gasped.

“You drink it all the time, and chances are the ingredients they put in there aren't exactly wholesome. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Wait here.”

Since he had now finished vacuuming, Craig carried the cleaner back downstairs and put it into the closet where it was stored, then walked into the kitchen. Tricia glanced over at him and, with a mischievous smirk, rolled off the couch and snuck after him.

“Whatcha up to?” she asked as Craig approached the counter.

“Nothing.”

The sound of bubbling and brewing was soon heard, and Tricia smiled wider.

“Oooh! Are you making him coffee? How romantic,” the girl teased.

“Shut up.”

“C'mon, baby bro. You know you want to.”

“I don't ‘want’ anything. I'm just doing him a favor-”

“For carrying your sorry butt through this project?”

“No,” he shot back.

“Then for something else, maybe? Craig and Twee-eek, sittin’ in a tree…”

A plastic cup came flying at the brunette, but she skillfully dodged it and even managed to catch it in her hand smoothly.

“ _Ninja skills,_ ” she whispered before tossing the cup back and slinking out of the kitchen.

While Craig was gone, Tweek walked over to a wall and stood on tiptoe to open the room's only window, letting in sunlight and fresh air.

Oddly, he thought he heard squeaking coming from behind him, but saw nothing when he darted around.

Craig walked back in, holding a white mug.

He said, “Hey, Tweek. Try this,” and handed it to the blond, who took it into his hands.

Tweek glanced at the brown, murky coffee in the mug.

“ _He's trying to poison me or something, isn’t he? No, no, that can't be: he needs me to do this project. But what if he doesn't care about the project?! Agh!_ "

After a few more frantic seconds of overthinking, he slowly raised the cup and hesitantly sipped the coffee. Almost immediately, his face seemed to light up, and he began taking faster, deeper sips. Within a few minutes, the mug was completely empty.

“Wow!” the coffee lover gasped. “That was even better than my parents’ coffee! I didn't even know that was possible!”

“You're welcome. Oh, I kinda deviated from your plan earlier, by the way,” Craig added nonchalantly.

Narrowing his eyes and leaning forward, Tweek interrogated him with, “Oh? What'd you do?”

“Cleaned Stripe’s cage.”

“Stripe? Who-”

Tweek turned around again and screamed as he found himself staring at a small, brown, fuzzy animal.

Craig stepped a little closer and, in an uncharacteristically sympathetic tone, said, “Relax, he's harmless. Guinea pigs can't hurt you.”

“Y-you have a guinea pig? I'm surprised it could survive in a room like this…”

“Hey, I take good care of him,” Craig retorted. “I may seem like some uncaring asshole, but-”

“You're secretly a big sweetie,” Tweek finished, smirking.

“N-no, I wouldn't say that-”

“Don't lie! You looked at my injury, you said Tricia was cool even though she teased you, you made me coffee, you take care of a pet…and I’m sorry I misjudged you,” he trailed off.

“What’d ya say?”

Tweek slowly raised his head to meet Craig’s gaze, his eyes shimmering faintly.

“I misjudged you. I thought you were just some arrogant idiot who liked pissing people off for no reason. I..didn’t like you very much,” he mumbled shamefully. However, he began to smile a little as he cried, “B-but now! N-now I know you’re much more than that! I-I mean, we’ve only spent a few hours together, and already I know you’re much kinder than I realized!”

“Wow, thanks,” Craig replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm again, though it turned to a reluctantly serious tone as he continued, “Well, as long as we’re making heartfelt confessions, I gotta admit you’re pretty interesting too. Takes a lot to get me to give a shit about something like your performance. And to give a shit about some _one_ like you.”

A heavy blush, even stronger than his previous ones, reddened Tweek’s pale cheeks.

“S-so...what now?” he asked, almost whispering.

“Well, we may as well get to work on this performance, I guess. What scene we doin’?” Craig asked as he rather unceremoniously sat on the bed next to Tweek, as if nothing had happened.

Blinking a few times, the blond responded, “Oh! Uh, okay...w-well, a fight scene might be something you’d like, but the only good ones I know are from Shakespeare, and we’ve already established that's not an option…” then remained silent with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds.

Craig stared at the dazed boy and opened his mouth a few times to speak, but then decided against it. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight a little, causing the blue covers of the bed to shift as well. Tweek didn't seem to react to the movement, still staring forward blankly.

“ _I am so confused_ ,” the two thought in sync.

“S-s-so-” Tweek stammered out in the same airy near-whisper. “I’m sorry, but, wh-what exactly...is this?” he asked as he gestured to himself, then to Craig. “Are we friends now?”

“Why not?” shrugged the taller of the two. “Not as if we have anything to lose.”

“O-okay then,” Tweek squeaked, his thoughts still doubting and unsure. “U-umm, in that case, why don’t we do something about friendship?”

Craig leaned back and hummed softly to himself as he mulled it over, then answered, “That sounds the kinda cheesy thing you’d do. But cheese _is_ delicious, so, what the hell.”

Giggling softly, his speech impaired by his laughter, Tweek teased, “Was that an attempt at a metaphor?”

“Is that the one where you use ‘like’ or ‘as’?”

This only caused Tweek to laugh more, and to lean forward a little in an attempt to stabilize himself. Seeing Tweek's soft, still-flushed face illuminated with a smile, and his blue eyes twinkling with mirth, Craig was struck dumb.

“ _He's actually pretty cute when he laughs._ ”

“Okay, okay, hehe, seriously,” Tweek said, still letting out a few soft giggles and pants. “Friendship. What are some good scenes about friendship? From movies, plays…anything.”

“Uhh...well, there is one. But I don't think I can be either character: they're both pretty different from me.”

“O-oh, don't worry! Pretending to be someone else is what acting’s all about! Here, I'll help,” Tweek said kindly, smiling at his partner. “What’s the scene about?”

“Well, it’s from _Lord of the Rings_ -”

“I haven't actually seen or read that,” Tweek interjected; he then realized he had interrupted Craig, and cleared his throat and gestured for Craig to continue talking.

“Okay, I can explain it. See, there's these two guys named Sam and Frodo. Them and their friends are on a quest to destroy this magic ring and save the world and all that. But Frodo's been through so much, he wants to give up. So Sam gives this big speech to get him inspired again,” explained the noirette. “Uh, y-you should probably do the big speech part,” he added somewhat awkwardly.

“N-no! L-Like Al said, you can be a great actor if you try. I know you can do it,” Tweek said encouragingly. “Get the script and we can start.”

“If you say so.”

Craig dug his plain black smartphone out of the pocket of his tight jeans and efficiently typed into it for a moment, then handed it to Tweek.

Tweek examined the quote that had been pulled up, posted on some quote sharing site he didn't recognize, then said “Okay, just give me a second to get into character…” before taking a few deep breaths.

Within seconds, the blond snapped his fingers and said “Got it,” then looked up at Craig.

His blue eyes shone faintly as the drops of water in them caught the light of the setting sun. Once again, Craig was amazed; Tweek looked like he could start crying at any moment.

“I can't do this, Sam,” he said in a tired, weak voice; he truly sounded as if he were in pain.

Craig cleared his throat and awkwardly glanced to the side.

“ _May as well try...heh, never thought I'd say that._ ”

“I know. It's all wrong,” he responded, sighing deeply. “By rights we shouldn't even be here.”

The noirette paused; noticing his obvious doubt, Tweek nodded encouragingly at him and silently mouthed, “Keep going.”

“But...we are,” he continued, leaning a little closer to the blond, his own green eyes full of something Tweek couldn't quite recognize. His voice grew more determined as his speech went on, “It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness, and danger, they were. And sometimes…”

Craig paused again, smacked his lips a little, and cleared his throat, drops of water welling up in his eyes just as they had in Tweek's.

“Sometimes you didn't want to know the end, because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?”

Again, Craig’s voice became stoic and determined: “But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it'll shine out the clearer. _Those_ were the stories that stayed with you. That _meant_ something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now.”

Oddly, as Craig leaned even closer, he found himself unable to look away from Tweek. The coffee lover's eyes seemed to be watering more now.

“Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.”

Quietly, almost in a whisper, Tweek asked, “What are _we_ holding on to, Sam?”

“That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for,” concluded the noirette.

“Oh, Craig, that was wonderful!” Tweek cried.

He threw his arms around Craig and hugged him, but soon realized what he was doing and pulled back, blushing heavily and mumbling an apology. Craig dismissed it by saying he didn't mind.

“Y-you did so well! I-It's like Al said: you _can_ be great, if you just try!”

“Well, I wouldn't have tried if it weren't for you. Thanks.”

Tweek began to blush deeper as he sheepishly replied, “O-oh, d-don't be silly…A-anyway, let's keep practicing! With a bit more refining, it'll be perfect!”

“You're the boss…”

The two repeated the scene several more times, until they were sure it was as close to perfect as they could manage. As the sky grew darker and the stars twinkled, Tweek politely excused himself and walked out of the room, smiling kindly at Craig. He walked down the stairs, waved goodbye to Tricia, and made his way to the front door. She was on her phone and seemed to be talking about a bet, but gave him a wide grin and a thumbs-up in return.

Craig, meanwhile, exhaled softly and sat back down on his bed, thinking over the events of that afternoon. He was rather tired from all the cleaning and rehearsing, but he had to admit, it was nice to have a clean room. After a few more minutes of musing, he decided he should go to bed early for once, instead of staying up until midnight- after all, Tweek wouldn't be very pleased with him if he came to school exhausted. The noirette crawled into bed and settled down to sleep, and on the other side of the town, the blond did the same, both of them prepared for the next day...

“Oh, darlings, that was absolutely splendid!” cried Al as the two finished their brief scene.

Surprisingly enthusiastic applause from the rest of the class- the loudest so far- filled the room, and Tweek and Craig bowed in unison.

After class, Al approached them, a jolly smile on his face, and simply said, “I knew you two had it in you.”

“O-oh, it was nothing, sir, really,” said the embarrassed and slightly giddy Tweek.

“I keep telling you, don’t be so modest! So, you've performed together excellently- did you learn anything else from each other?”

They glanced at one another, both smiling faintly, and Craig answered, “You could say that.”

“Lovely to hear. Now, I've got a bit of cleaning up to do, so if you boys could go enjoy one another's company somewhere else…”

As the pair left Al's room and Tweek shut the door behind them, Craig spoke up again, this time casually asking, “Hey, uh, you said you never saw _Lord of the Rings_ , right?”

“No, why?”

“Oh, uh, y’know…” Craig put his hands in his pockets and kicked at the floor absentmindedly, scuffing his shoes in the process. “The theater's playin’ the whole trilogy this weekend. I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanted to go with me?”

“Y-you mean, like...a date?”

The taller of the two shrugged and nonchalantly said, “Sure, why not?”

“U-um, well...I-I think…”

Tweek continued to mumble and fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt.

“Ummm...I-I’d...I'd like that,” he quietly responded.

“See ya then,” Craig finished, beginning to walk off down the hall.

Tweek quickly gave chase, crying out, “Hey, wait up!” and giggling.

The blue-clad teen stopped and turned to face his pursuer, who wrapped his arms around his waist for a few seconds and then stepped back.

“J-just thought you deserved one more.”

“Heh. Thanks.”

The two grinned and waved goodbye to each other, then walked in opposite directions, parting ways, both eagerly awaiting their next meeting.


End file.
